Wicked Wednesday – Desire Calls

Today’s Wicked Wednesday is a snippet from the free e-novella, DESIRE CALLS. You can read the entire story by visiting eharlequin.com and you can click here to access the free e-novella.

DESIRE CALLS is also included in the e-book bundle of the complete THE CALLING Collection. You can click here for more information on that e-book.

So here’s the excerpt from DESIRE CALLS which is one of my favorite stories in THE CALLING. You’ll be able to read more about Blake and Stacia next year in FURY CALLS and ARDOR CALLS!

Chapter Three

With a rather bored sigh, Stacia placed the glass filled with blood from a nouveau yuppie fresh from Chelsea on the gouged counter before her. She had been hoping to run into some familiar faces, but other than Foley, the owner of the bar, the night had been quiet, until…

She swiveled on her stool as she sensed a familiar vamp energy and took note of him as he approached.

As he realized he had her attention, the swagger in his step increased. A broad smile spread across his face and swept up into his deep blue eyes.

Stacia found herself smiling back, even if it was just Blake.

When he stood before her, he placed his hands on his hips, drawing aside the jacket to reveal a black T-shirt that clung lovingly to his muscles. “Blimey, luv. It’s been too long since you’ve visited.”

“Been missing me? That’s a surprise,” she said, and with a wave of her hand, signaled for the bartender to bring Blake a drink.

“Why would that be a surprise, luv?” He slipped onto the open stool beside her. When the bartender placed a glass of blood before him, he raised it and offered a toast. “To old— We’re definitely old, but are we friends?”

Stacia laughed harshly and picked up her glass but didn’t return the toast. Eyeing him over the rim, she said, “A gentleman wouldn’t mention a lady’s age, and as for being friends… Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

Blake, ever confident and even more playful, leaned toward her and whispered close to her lips, “Should I be?”

Raising her hand, she inclined her head toward the direction of the vampire bartender and made a fist as if she was squeezing something. The bartender suddenly dropped the glass he held and grabbed at his throat, fighting for air.

“Should you be afraid?” she asked, almost hoping that Blake would prove her right and make a fast exit as so many of the vamps at the Blood Bank had done upon her arrival.

“A man’s got to face his fears,” Blake said calmly and sipped his blood, barely glancing in the direction of the barkeep whose sallow vampire skin was starting to turn slightly blue.

With a flick of her hand, Stacia released her hold on the vampire and examined Blake, sensing something different about him. Something a bit more…intriguing. He had changed since the last time she had seen him. “So you don’t fear me…”

“Should I?” he asked again. “Do you have some nefarious plan for me, luv?” His voice was laced with humor and not a whit of the anxiety she usually inspired in other lesser vampires. When he gestured in the direction of the back rooms, she chuckled.

“Get real. Me and you? Do I look like I’m slumming?”

With a careless shrug, Blake slid off the stool and with a nod said, “Well, then it’s goodbye, I guess. ”

Stacia controlled her surprise at his seeming nonchalance and watched him walk away, his swagger drawing the attention of quite a few women. Stupid human females who didn’t realize that to Blake, they were just a possible snack.

When he actually sidled up to one, bent that peroxided head and said something to the young woman that had her laughing, annoyance flared through Stacia. She didn’t know why. At best, she and Blake were longtime acquaintances, not friends. Elders had few friends, not even other elders.

There were usually too many power plays going on to permit true friendship to develop.

Blake’s attitude was therefore…refreshing.

As he and the young woman headed onto the dance floor and plastered their bodies against each other, Stacia decided it was time she had some fun, as well, instead of just sitting there, moping.

Moping was so pitiful.

Scoping out the crowd in the bar, she noticed one young man seated at a booth along the far wall. Big and powerful. The black T shirt he wore clung to the thick, large muscles of his arms as they rested on the edge of the booth. Artificially black hair punched up the paleness of his face which had obviously been enhanced with makeup, as had his thick, dark eyelashes.

Like her, he had an earring through his brow, although his was silver. His ears also sported a variety of piercings and when he smiled, the wink of silver in his tongue promised her more pleasure.

A vamp wannabe? she wondered. Or just out for a night of play?

Finishing her blood, Stacia rose from her stool and walked toward the booth, but didn’t immediately engage the young man. While the direct approach generally worked best, sometimes the hunt and chase were much more stimulating.

With the slightest glance his way—although enough to let him know he had been noticed—she sauntered past him to the dance floor, making sure to stay in his line of sight.

Once there, she released herself to the music, shifting to the hard beats. They were almost violent in their volume, the strength of the sound driving against her body until it was as if the throb of the bass had melded with her heartbeat.

She moved her hips, gyrating in rhythm to the pulse. Raised her hands, which lifted the hem of her black leather vest to expose the pale expanse of her flat midriff and the woven ring of gold through her navel.

Warmth came against her skin as a hand snaked around her waist and dragged her to a rock-hard body.

Looking up over her shoulder, she smiled as she saw the young Goth man behind her. Felt the strength and size of his physique against her petite frame.

As she moved her backside, pressing into him, she realized she had made a good choice. He was just what she needed to welcome her to New York City.

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